


Override

by Verl



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, Is this angst, One Shot, he deserves better, i couldn't help but sneak a nice thing at the end though., last bit of trial 6 only we're with the poor robot's perspective, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23141590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verl/pseuds/Verl
Summary: The outside world had used him the entire time.Yet now they wanted even more. They had no use for his 'personality' anymore.He fights.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 30





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“All four of us will abstain from voting, so you’ll be the only one to survive.”

That was Maki, somehow managing to sound so calm and composed about the plan they’d all agreed upon. He’d tried to sound as if he didn’t care. After all, did hope or despair even mean anything? Logically, no. They were just words hastily papering over what sort of ending ‘the outside world’ wanted.  
The world that had looked at them all as nothing but something to exist for their entertainment. The world that was happy to watch their friends die and pretend they felt bad about it, like they didn’t want them to suffer. The world that made all this happen in the first place and then demanded a ‘happy’ ending while still condemning two of them to further manipulation and agony.  
The world that had watched everything through his eyes, had nudged and encouraged him along to do as they wanted, had gone so far as to see ‘themselves’ in the game by using him like a toy, and still had the nerve to think his friends didn’t really matter. How could one be so close, see and hear everything he had and still think like that?  
He wasn’t brave enough to tell Tsumugi off directly like Maki could. Yet the burning pressure on his chest made him want to shout out in anger.  
Did he hate them? They were monsters.

Shuichi’s plan was not ideal, but it was better than the two options they wanted. At least that would be on their own terms. Their own choice.  
One of his only real choices this whole time. Perhaps he was more okay with spending his life like this because of that. If their lives truly didn’t matter, then it was none of the world’s business if he spent it how he chose. He’d been fooled before, thinking the voice had his own interests, or at least the group’s interests at heart. With the truth of what it was though...he would defy it.

“Are you okay with that, Keebo? Is your inner voice telling you that’s okay?” The mastermind asked that as if she already knew the answer, smiling despite the fact her little ‘story’ was jumping the rails.

Her confidence was illogical. Should he step lightly? Yet...he no longer could consult the voice on if it was a trick. It could not be trusted.  
How had he not realized how much he relied on them to make choices for him? Think of the silence, how he’d decided to use the upgrades after all. He’d been able to choose without them, and he can choose in spite of them now.

“Does the outside world really want that!? Do they want Danganronpa to end!?”

Something was off, she seemed too sure. Yet what could he do?  
He no longer cared what the outside world thought, and he’d say as much if that’s what she wanted so badly. Curling his hands into fists felt difficult, strenuous in a way that almost backed down.  
Yet the plan didn’t work unless they all did it. Shuichi, Himiko and Maki were all friends, and they were all depending on one another right now. Defy them. Ignore the comforting gentle voice that sounded so right, that had given him courage and strength throughout this entire troubling hell. The voice that had let him think everything would be alright, that he was making the right choices even as he struggled to understand everyone.  
“My inner voice doesn’t matter anymore! “

The always passive voice no longer felt that way. Less of a small friendly nudge, more a shouting in his skull. The warm confidence was now frosty and stabbing at every joint as if hurting him would change his mind now. It dug in, it was no voice but a snarling, hateful command.  
Defy it defy itdefyitdefyit!

“I’m going to end this game with my frie-” he was cut off by the pain, the loudness of it. Something had jerked him back, only letting him produce a strangled noise of confusion and panic.

His arms dropped, though he had not done that. Still. Silent. He couldn’t turn his head to see everyone, but there was concern on his friend’s faces. Something was wrong. He couldn’t do anything. The cold burned furiously as he tried to move, to speak, to do anything with his own body. Yet it wasn’t really meant to be his, was it.

“Haha! That’s what I thought.”

She knew. She knew this could happen, would happen. He’d admitted it and-

“They don’t want this kind of ending! They want the killing games to continue!”

He wasn’t needed anymore. Wasn’t wanted anymore, because he no longer obeyed. Was this feeling really cold, or was it their hatred of him and the others? It was eating at him. The words made little sense now, but they all seemed to find a way to grab hold of his consciousness and drag at it. Make him lose things. They had been important, but all he knew was it hurt. What he could see was tinted blue and seemed to be fading even as he fought against the words that somehow burrowed in to rip him apart. It didn’t matter that they didn’t need him, that he wasn’t wanted, that they wanted him dead! Fight it! Even if he planned to die anyway, and it would be so much easier to let the world fa-NO. Don’t let them win, you can’t let them-the pain would stop.

“That is the outside world’s decision!”

“Yes, my inner voice will not accept an ending without hope or despair…” They spoke with his voice that was also not his voice. They pretended to be him, but even now he could hear it was wrong, fake, the others would too. Why couldn’t he prevent them from speaking?

“Keebo! Get a hold of yourself!”

He wanted to say he was trying, to thank Himiko for trying to reach out like that, but his head was pounding. The words were nails being driven into his processor, jarring, unsafe, senseless destruction.

“That’s not possible. The Keebo you see there isn’t the one you know. It’s cuz he did such a silly thing that he’s feeling the audience’s anger now.”

She sounded so happy about that. Punishment for what he’d done earlier. She was thrilled to watch these monsters try and crush him. He was still here, he could still fight. The people out there were angry? He was no expert, but he was under the impression he had far more right to that emotion than they did right this moment. He managed to get his finger to twitch. Keep going. Even if they won in the end, he wasn’t going to just give these selfish things what they wanted anymore.

“What do you mean? What’s happening to Keebo?”

“Since Keebo kept defying the audience they took a vote and decided...that troublesome personality of his should be erased!”

You were always fake, you never mattered, you weren’t even a human like the others. No one would miss you and now you’re in the way of the game.  
So you’ll be disposed of.  
It was the voice thinking that, it was himself thinking that and the confusion made his weak grip back to power slip again. Even Maki was worried, he couldn’t stop, couldn’t just ruin their plan because he was just some stupid toy robot to play with, some machine that couldn’t really choose for itself.

His friends were speaking. He couldn’t understand the words. Pity? Disgust for the outside world? Fleeting guesses.  
He was losing. He would lose.  
...he wanted them to live. He always had. He wasn’t going to be able to vote how he wanted.  
His friends...didn’t need him to be here right now. He wouldn’t last long enough.  
He just had to get something out. Get Shuichi to force these outsiders to see how he had seen. How all his friends had.  
Hold them here. Make them feel. To do that.  
Die.  
They wanted to be in this world? Fine! Take his place. The world will win. Yet he’ll do his best to make the prize sting. He’d give his life ten times over if it would save the rest.

“So do you want to throw your lives away? Even if it changes nothing?”

His life was already thrown, he was just choosing where it landed. Ignore the pain, the tearing, the fact you only know the Detective’s name, speak.  
They hear him. They know that weak grunt is him.  
The one in the large hat says to not give up. Yet the plan is to do exactly that. He hopes she isn’t angry about it.

“I... can barely... control it. Looks like... this is the end…” the words are his, the voices are furious. He just needs to hold on long enough, ignore how faint and weak his voice sounds. “I’m...sorry...I could not fight with you...until the end. Your choice...is not wrong. The real enemy is...the outside world...enjoying this killing game.” They hate that, he doesn’t care. They are the enemy, Shuichi needs to hear this. His vision is failing again as the sharp jagged words start to drag him to nothing. Just a bit longer. Then you can have your ‘victory’.  
“So...please...use me...t-to change…” he can’t see, he can only hear the outside, their demands for his death. Please let him hear the last bit. Let his friends be the last ones...to use him. The only ones he would not mind being used by. “To change...the..world…”

They set upon him, but he no longer struggles against their demands for him to disappear. The silence might be nice after all of this. They can have what's left of him. Just one last desperate request.  
Let the three live.  
Let him be used...by someone not evil...for a change…  
It’s almost like falling, being like this.  
Alone.  
Himself.  
Until he forgets who that is, too.

* * *

Something wakes up. Someone? Unsure.  
The golden eyes feel familiar. Nice, at least.

"Hey. Can you hear us Keebo?" the man attached to the eyes speaks, tone low and gentle, as if trying to coax a cat from under a bed.

The name sounds right. The voice is as familiar as the eyes. He can trust it. He should? Uncertain.  
"Us?" the hissing crackle of static nearly drowns out the word, but the man seems to catch it.

"Ah. Right, only one eye works right now. We'll fix it! If we can."

"Does your leg work? It should be attached correctly." A voice comes from a person he can't see, but they also seem like someone he should know the name of.

A sensible question. He should have thought to run a diagnostic after waking in a strange place.  
"It functions." the damage to his speakers is too much to give more useful data than that, he doubts even he would understand the words if he went over five at a time.

"My magic found it under some rubble." A third voice chimed in, suddenly showing up beside him.

He tried to jerk back, but only tumbled over for his trouble, ground hard against exposed innards. The arm he'd meant to catch himself with ended at the elbow. He'd taken severe damage. Yet these three seemed to be trying to help put him back together.  
He should know them. He did. Who were they...

"Oops. Didn't mean to startle you," the red haired one was holding out an arm to his intact one. He took it, and she helped him back into a sitting position.

"Thank you" he said it almost out of habit, even though they probably couldn't understand it.

"Well we got everything we could, but most of the other parts we found are too broken for us to figure out how they go together," the blue haired one was back, a look on his face that he could guess was...apologetic? What was he sorry about? "We'll have to figure out replacements when we're out of here, but you can lean on Maki for now,"

They were going somewhere?  
And he was going with them?  
Well it didn't make too much sense for a robot to stay out in what looked like a place a bomb had gone off.  
Where he'd gone off.  
Oh. That made the missing limbs and most of the top of his face missing make more sense. There'd been a reason for that, what was it. It must have been important.

The third human made a noise before showing up on the side he could see and shrugged his more useful arm over her shoulder.  
She was strong, practically hauling both of them up under her own strength. He tried to not be too much of a burden, but balancing with one leg that wasn't quite right was rather difficult.  
Logic would dictate this was the 'Maki' black suit mentioned.

"Sorry," he hissed. Both for forgetting who she was, and for making her have to work so hard for him to move on with this little group.

"We wouldn't have an exit without you, don't be sorry." She seemed to glare at him, and he worried he'd done something wrong. Yet he was not dropped.

The three all talked at him as if he knew them, and they seemed so lighthearted that all of them were alive that he didn't have it in him to advise he had no idea what they were talking about. Yet the things they mentioned did seem familiar.  
Golden eyes was Shuichi. Red hair was Himiko. He'd already correctly deduced Maki. He was Keebo, allegedly.

"So, the outside world. We're going to see it after spitting in it's face." Shuichi was looking at the hole that was probably their escape route. "Everyone ready?"

All he knew is these three were alive.  
Something about that fact made everything else easy.  
The attempt had worked. The strange warm, fuzzy emotion was almost overwhelming.  
Joy? Happiness? It felt like a nice one, a positive one.  
The enemy had won the battle.  
These three...his friends...they'd won the war.  
They all mattered, and they'd even stopped to look for him.  
Yes. Joy was probably the right emotion.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear he Never Gets a Break. He gets like the worst possible ending this poor robot lad.  
> is it absolutely fascinating to explore? yes. So here we are.  
> We have this whole theme of the not real still mattering and you still make the robot DIE.  
> no we are saving him here and that's final.  
> let me have this  
> Feel free to tell me all the nice good headcanons. or just comment in general they cause joy.  
> Hope it was enjoyable! Or at least heart stabbing.


End file.
